” Annabel rose to her feet. ‘Softly, you say?’ she uttered, raging. ‘Then I am not mad in the least. My son went down after his death. She wanted to return his gaze but focused intently on a spot next to and above the brick fireplace, as her music teachers had always taught her to do instead of looking directly at the audience. There were menacing possibilities; the thought of them set him a-tremble. “Who tied this scarf here?” he asked, looking up. Presently, however, a sudden movement occurred, and disclosed his features, which were those of a young man of nearly his own age. “Quite an unimportant one,” he assured her.
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